No Dark, No Light
by Frosty123
Summary: A Young man, An Older man, And a Boy. They Speak, to one another. Probably shit tbqh.


"Grandpa, what did you need me for?" The child asked, his pale green eyes contrasting with his similarly white, nigh see through skin. They twinkled in excitement, obviously wondering what his favorite parent was going to say. Grandpa Harry always had the greatest of stories, even though it was very hard to believe some of them. How could a man, this old, have ever been young? Preposterous, it was simply crazy!  
The aging man responded, his much more, Vibrant eyes, sparkling against his similarly white skin. He, slowly pulled a rock from his pocket, wizened, battered hands shaking as he did so. His thin digits curled around the rock, although, this rock was shiny, and it must've been the prettiest of rubies when it was younger, just like the old man, must've been the spryest of lads. He offered the stone to the younger man, holding out his hand, in both askance, yet in silent fear of what he was holding.  
"'Arri, you, must show none of this to anyone. Tell, nobody at all. If, if you do that for me, I will give you this stone. Do, Do you understand, my boy?" His voice was old, gravelly and hoarse. The younger boy nodded, brushing his windswept hair out of his eyes. He stared at the older man, what could this stone even be worth? Was it even magical? He, he felt a the strangest sense of curiosity, the likes of which was so burning, so interesting, as if he needed to know immiediately, he wasn't sure he'd ever feel it again.  
The older man continued, his shoulders sagging. "I, I'm going, to tell you some wise words. Told to me by a great man. Terrible, terrible, but great all the while." He chuckled a bit, it was bitter, yet contained so many different emotions, it was hard to discern the true meaning of his words, the emotions crashed into the younger boy's mind, he was dazed, and that was the first time in a long time. He, he wasn't much like the others with his emotions. They drew the younger boy in, they made him _Wonder_. That, that was certainly something new.  
As the older man sighed, he rambled a bit, "Now, even though he was great, yet terrible, you most likely do know him. A old man, much older than myself. He, he wasn't too bad of a man, just, misguided. Truly, truly a shame he was caught on the wrong side of history." He rambles on, his tone gaining a wistful element, almost as if he was thinking back on pleasant memories as his similarly windswept hair blew into his eyes. He brushed it gently out of his eyes, the gnarled hand bearing 3 rings. That was quite odd, especially considering the younger boy knew, that his grandfather only had 2 rings, especially of that majesty.  
Sliding his hands into his lap, the older man refocused, his eyes sharpening and gaining, more of that youthful fire once more. "The Blood within you is pure. Yet you waste it so wantonly." He chuckled a bit more, but it was bitter. His old, sagging features gaining a renewed tightness. "He told me one more thing, his mind, perhaps so deteriorated, that he was unable to make out what he was saying. A mad man that one." Shaking his head ever so gently. He didn't know how much longer he had to last, he had to make these words count. "There is No Dark, No Light." His breaths became haggard, the stone within his hand quite visibly heating up.  
Breathing deeply, he forced out another few words. "No Good, No Evil." His newly acquired ring lit up, emmiting a pale blue glow. The glow lit the dimmly lit room, allowing the multitude of trinkets, from time turners, to diamond snitches. He slowly breathed out, pain overcoming his expression. "Only, Power. And those, those too weak, those too weak to seek it." Relaxing in the back of his chair, he snapped his jaw shut, the hand still out, forever offering the stone. As the emotional link, abruptly ended, the younger boy ran over to the older man. Grabbing at the mans gnarled, rough hands. "Papa!" He shouted. But, no response came. For the man, The man had spoken his last.

Poetic truly, the younger man thought. That a man, a man who had saved the world many times over, couldn't save himself. Bah, enough reminiscing. He, He had work to do. For sleep and time to think, was only a suggestion and a bit of wishful thinking for a Potter.

-AN-  
Here you are you plebs. Love it, Hate it, I don't particularly care. Roast me, Tell me what you think I could do better, or whatever you like. I'll read comments surely.  
Insults will be used to feed my Humil fetish. Thankies for reading. Your god Empahrah, Frost is outies.


End file.
